


Here Comes Your Man

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Background Berica - Freeform, Jock Stiles, Love Confessions, M/M, Nerd Stiles, Pining, awkward turtle derek hale, background scallison, emotionally dense derek hale, forgotten childhood memories, mildly meddling friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Batman? Really?” The familiar voice makes Derek pause, fingers pressing into the spine of his Physics book. He glances over to his left to look at the face that goes with the voice. </p><p> </p><p>Stiles Stilinski is standing next to his locker and talking to him. Better check that actually. </p><p> </p><p>Derek looks behind his open locker, making sure that there’s no one there or standing behind him before he turns back towards the jock. Who is more than amused at Derek’s antics. “I had you pegged for a Marvel fan.” The lacrosse star continues. “But that’s Dick’s run as Batman so maybe you’re just into Nightwing more than Batman.”</p><p>--</p><p>all human AU where Stiles and Derek go to BHHS and Kate who?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Batman? Really?” The familiar voice makes Derek pause, fingers pressing into the spine of his Physics book. He glances over to his left to look at the face that goes with the voice.   
  


Stiles Stilinski is standing next to his locker and talking to him.

 

Better check that actually.   
  


Derek looks behind his open locker, making sure that there’s no one there or standing behind him before he turns back towards the jock. Who is more than amused at Derek’s antics. Stiles is leaning against the lockers, snapback on and bag hanging sloppily over one shoulder. “I had you pegged for a Marvel fan.” The lacrosse star continues grinning, “But that’s Dick’s run as Batman so maybe you’re just into Nightwing more than Batman.”  
  


Now there’s a surprising titbit. Most people just see Batman and run with it, going on about the movies instead of the comics much less distinguish between Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson’s runs. “And I never pegged you as a comic nerd.” Derek retorts, pulling the physics book out and cramming it into his bag hurriedly.   
  


“Does that mean that you’ve spent time thinking about me?” The flirtatious line makes Derek pause. As he slowly turns around to eye Stiles warily, Derek wonders if maybe this is some kind of prank. He’s not exactly the most popular kid in the school, or the class, but he’s still fairly well known. And he’s on the basketball team. And has he mentioned the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams? They've pulled more than a few pranks on each other for the hell of it.  
  


Stiles meanwhile, is grinning at him in a disarmingly charming manner. His brown eyes are sparkling with mirth, pink lips curling up deviously and his fingers are pattering against his leg. Derek looks him over before half shrugging, figuring that he’ll play along. “I think about a lot of things."   
  


The other boy slides closer, still grinning as Derek slams the locker shut and faces him, "Does that include me too?”  
  


“I don’t make it a point to think about asshole jocks a lot in my free time, no.” Derek offers with a mean grin of his own. It’s more than a little amusing when Stiles groans theatrically, fingers clutching at his chest and body leaning heavily against the lockers.  
  


He breaks face and laughs when Stiles points a finger at him and mock yells, “That hurt! Derek, that was just rude! Especially after we bonded over our mutual love of Nightwing!”  
  


Derek tries not to roll his eyes or grin. Either would give too much away. “What bonding? And what mutual love? All you did was point out that I’ve got a poster of Batman in my locker.”  
  


The jock immediately waggles a finger at Derek. “Ah-ah-ah~ Not just  _any_ poster of Batman! That’s Grant Morrison’s Batman Vs. Robin.” Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Well that’s…   
  


“Still not seeing the link with Nightwing here.” Derek replies, giving Stiles his best unimpressed look. He tries not to think about his older brother’s dry comment that that glare of his looks closer to constipated than unimpressed.  
  


The other teenager however, doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the frown. He grins and rocks back and forth on his heels in clear delight. “You’re surprised I knew that didn’t you? I’ve got the whole run. Or well, almost all of it. Just missing a few issues.”  
  


“I’ve got them all back home.” Wow, where’d  _that_  come from? Stiles looks just as surprised as Derek feels in that moment. No, seriously. What just possessed him to open his mouth and present that half-invitation to Stiles Stilinski? Who he doesn’t have a crush on, no matter what Cora insists. Because he doesn't. No really. He  _doesn't_. Like sure Stiles is good looking and a smart ass and he's got hands made for sin. But that doesn't mean that he's got a  _crush_ on him. Not really...  
  


Stiles’s mouth falls open, moving silently as he tries to figure out what words out. And Derek gets incredible distracted at the sweet shape of the jock’s lips and wonders if they are actually as soft as they look. “All of them?” Stiles finally asks in a weak tone, like he’s embarrassed of the question.  
  


Derek nods, a little too eagerly maybe but it appears that his body is set on betraying him. He’s internally panicking and wondering how exactly this is going to come around and bite him in the ass when Stiles clears his throat.  
  


The look on Stiles’ face when Derek looks up, is a mix between shyness and eagerness. “Would uuuh. Would you mind if I came over some time and… read 'em? If it’s alright I mean. Cause I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything."   
  


Feeling more than a little dumb, Derek nods. "I wouldn’t mind. You could come over right now. Later I mean, once school is over.”  
  


Stiles beams at him. Flat out  _beams_. “Cool! Thanks! I’ll see you later then?” Nodding once more, Derek remains standing next to his locker, feeling utterly stupefied while Stiles bounces away with a cheerfully, “Meet me at my Jeep, okay? I’ll drive.”  
  


What just happened back there? 


	2. We’re Accidentally in Love

By the time the final bells rings and students pour out of the school doors, Derek’s nervousness has turned into a jittering sensation that won't go away. There’s this feeling churning around in his stomach that something big is going to happen today-in a few hours maybe-and Derek won’t be able to stop it. It’s a silly ominous thought that keeps running around in his head like a chicken with it’s head cut off. He just feels like a giant mess.   
  


It only gets worse when he makes his way to Stiles’ blue Jeep and stands there waiting for the jock. The feeling settles slightly when he sees Stiles walk up to him, grinning easily. But it becomes even  _more worse_  on the drive to the Hale house. His nerves feel like a big ball of delicate silk thread, quivering with tension, just waiting for an excuse to break. One gust of air, one sweep of a leaf, one something that will make him crack.  
  


Derek forces himself to stay still in the passenger seat, feeling more and more fidgety as Stiles tap-tap-tap's his fingers against the steering wheel or the gear stick. It's not helping Derek's nerves. Honestly speaking? The off beat rhythm keeps making Derek twitch and want to smack the jock’s hands into silence. He feels ready to crawl out of his skin as it is, Derek doesn't want an off-key beat to accompany that.  
  


When Stiles  _finally_  pulls up in front of the house and turns the engine off, Derek is out of the car faster than Stiles could say his name. He’s two steps away before he remembers his manners (admittedly after he sees Cora peeking curiously through the curtains) and turns back to wait for Stiles.  
  


Derek tries not to think about how clumsy Stiles looks when he clambers out of his Jeep (who gets out of their car both feet at the same time?), or how there’s a quick flash of nervousness on his face when he glances up at the Hale house. “Nice house.” Stiles offers in a tone that is so different from his earlier confident one. It’s the same tone in which Stiles had rambled about his Jeep roughly 5 minutes into the drive before trailing off into silence.  
  


With a shrug, Derek hefts his bag higher over his shoulder. “It’s home.” He replies as he walks up to the front door. As he steps in, he yells, “I’m home!”. Cora looks up from her seat, ignoring her milk and cookies and TV show in favor of watching her older brother and his friend taking off their shoes before heading upstairs.  
  


“Moooooom!” Cora’s loud yell rings behind them. “Derek brought a friend with him!” There’s an almost scandalously gleeful quality to her voice that makes Derek want to go back downstairs and steal a cookie from his younger sister. Just because. Maybe he'll noogie her later.  
  


However and whatever words his mother replies with remains till Cora and it doesn’t follow the boys up the landing. Derek turns to the left, heading for the last door on the left without looking behind him to make sure Stiles is following. It isn't until he's thrown the door open and stepped into his room that Derek looks back. Stiles is standing just out of reach, mouth open as his eyes fly over Derek's room. Carelessly, Derek tosses his bag into it’s usual corner by the bookshelf. “Make yourself at home.” He offers, sitting down in the computer seat before turning to Stiles.  
  


The other teenager is looking around the room with barely concealed curiosity and awe. Like he’s standing in the Louvre instead of Derek’s bedroom. His eyes lock onto the cork board he's got up over his bed, flitting from one picture after another. Derek's fingers twitch with the desire to force Stiles to sit on his bed, facing _away_ from all the snapshots of Derek’s life just to get him to stop staring at the damned thing.  
  


“So uh…”, Derek taps his socked toes against the carpet before asking, “You’re into comics too?”  
  


The question breaks Stiles out of whatever daze he’s been in for the last minute. He steps into the room cautiously, clearly unsure and nervous as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. I used to be more into Marvel but I’ve been getting into DC a lot. Mostly the Green Lantern and Batman titles. Some Wonder Woman from time to time.”  
  


“Cool. I’m more Marvel than DC. Batman’s the exception.” Derek offers in return, not wanting the awkward silence from before to rear it’s ugly head again.  
  


He’s relieved when Stiles grins, looking more at ease than he has in the past hour. “Lemme guess, X-men?”  
  


Derek grins in return. “Wolverine. Some Fantastic Four.”  
  


“Nice.” Stiles’ laugh and a crisp knocking overlap with each other, making the boys turn towards the door.  
  


Derek waits a moment for the door to open. When it doesn’t, he calls out, “Come in.”  
  


The door opens to reveal his mother, looking as regal and peaceful as ever even with a plate stacked high with cookies. “Derek. You didn’t mention that you’d be bringing a friend over.” She greets, directing a warm smile at Stiles, who smiles bashfully back.  
  


“It was kind of sudden.” There’s a familiar hot feeling crawling up his neck but Derek doesn’t understand where it’s coming from because it’s just Stiles coming over to talk about comics. What’s to blush about that right?  
  


His mother ignores the comment as she puts the plate down on the table before turning towards Stiles. “You look familiar…” Derek expects her to tap her lips contemplatively and Stiles to fidget himself off the bed as the seconds tick by.  
  


When it’s apparent that his mother can’t put a name to the face, Derek steps in. “Mom, this is Stiles. Stilinski. The Sheriff’s son?”  
  


And just like that, the confused look passes from his mother’s face. “Of course! Stiles! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Has it? When has his mother met Stiles before? Derek wants to ask these questions but she’s too caught up in examining Stiles and exclaiming how he’s grown.  
  


Stiles blushes and ducks his head. Derek can’t help but stare at the sight, wanting to commit to memory the exact red shade that’s crept over Stiles’ cheeks. He can’t help it! This is the guy who walks around the school with an easy kind of swagger and confidence that most people envy. He’s always smirking or sassing someone off! Derek didn’t think that Stiles  _could_  blush, if he was honest.  
  


His mind is being blown in all sorts of ways today. “If you boys need anything, just yell.” His mother is saying, already half way out . “And Derek, keep the door open.” And now it’s his turn to blush because  _seriously_?!  
  


Derek manages not to bury his face into his hands and turns towards Stiles. Who is staring at him with a strangely intense look that makes Derek feel nervous all over again. “What?” He asks defensively.  
  


It takes a few seconds but Stiles shakes his head and mutters, “Nothing. Nothing."   
  


And there’s the awkward silence. It’s stifling. It’s quiet. And it’s awkward. Stiles’ eyes begin to roam around the room again. Derek’s not sure what to make of it to be honest. It could just be idle curiosity that’s making Stiles stare at certain things (the guitar in the corner, the bookshelf nearby, the pile of clothes littered on the floor by the closet). Or maybe he’s looking for another topic of conversation. Or maybe he just wants to get the comics and leave?  
  


Derek clears his throat, getting up as he asks, "Which issues did you say you wanted?”  
  


On the bed, Stiles jumps like an electrical charge just went through him and he blinks in surprise up at Derek. “Huh?” His mouth falls open and stays that way. Derek gets a flash of wet, pink on the inside that is just-  
  


Clearing his throat, Derek nods towards his bookshelf and asks, “Batman? You said you didn’t have some issues of the Batman and Robin run? Which ones?”  
  


His fingers flit over the trades, wondering which title or run Stiles is going to name. Will it be the Red Hood story? Blackest Knight? Batman and Robin must die? Hmmm, he ought to re-read this run. Starting with Battle for the Cowl.   
  


Derek’s wondering where he stashed that particular trade when Stiles loudly clears his throat. Stiles looks all kinds of nervous as he stands up - his hands are wringing themselves before one comes up to card through his hair, making it stick up even more. “I uuh… I might have lied a little bit about that.”  
  


And that’s the sound of the other shoe falling. Derek crosses his arms with a frown, expecting to hear that this has all been part of some strange prank or similar. “Which part?” He asks sharply, “What  _exactly_ did you lie about?”  
  


Stiles cringes hard and toes the carpet. “Uuuh about missing some issues. I’ve got the whole run too."   
  


That’s. That’s not what Derek was expecting. It kind of takes the winds out of his sails, leaving him standing in the middle of his room, blinking like a confused owl. "I don’t understand.” Derek says because that’s just about all he can think of. “Why would you lie about that?” No, really. What’s the point of that kind of lie anyways?   
  


Derek is momentarily distracted by the sight of Stiles waving his hands around, smacking and rubbing them together. The strange sense of foreboding is back and it’s ringing in between his ears like the loudest of bells. 'Here it comes! Here it comes!’ the bells chime in warning. 'Brace yourself!’  
  


“I just.” Stiles huffs and ruffles his hair, clearly agitated, before he gestures at Derek. “I just wanted an excuse to talk to you! And my mouth went off on it’s own when you said that you had the comics and I just wasn’t expecting you to…” He waves his hands energetically, like it’ll be easier to prove his point by doing so, “to actually invite me back to your home! I didn’t wake up this morning thinking that I’d get to actually be inside your room right now! That was  _so_ not part of today’s agenda!”  
  


Sifting through the unexpected verbal avalanche takes a few seconds and even then, Derek feels like he’s still buried. “Why would you need an excuse to talk to me?” Derek focuses on this because Stiles had said this near the beginning and everything after that was… a big blur.  
  


There’s a mumbled reply that Derek doesn’t catch. How can he when Stiles is staring down at the carpet and his lips have barely moved. “I’m sorry, what?” Derek asks, leaning forward with his head tilted towards Stiles so that he can catch the words this time.  
  


Stiles sighs. He scrubs a hand over his red (wow, that is worse than before. Derek didn’t know that such a red blush was possible) face before he grumbles, “Fuck it.” The teenager stares right up at Derek, eyes flashing with a scary amount of determination. “Because I like you, okay? I like you and just the thought of being around you always made me nervous and I panic and start  _babbling_  and don’t get me started on the sudden walking into things, okay?”  
  


Walking into…  _huh_? What was that supposed to mean? All of it, all of what Stiles has just said.  _Huh_?! Derek wants to check his room for hidden cameras or Laura hiding in the closet, shaking with suppressed mirth because this… this can’t be real.  
  


How can Stiles Stilinski have a crush on  _him_? They’ve not talked more than 5 times, in total, since Derek can remember and today? That’s been the longest time they’ve spent together. So, why…  
  


The way Stiles is staring at him, with such nervous anticipation, rattles a memory out of Derek’s brain. He’d been in the school library, searching through the shelves for a copy of Emily Dickinson when he’d heard a loud crash and clatter. He'd had to walk out of the aisle to see that Stiles had crashed into the cart and spilled most of the contents on the floor, much to the librarian’s irritation.   
  


The look that Stiles had given him that day, when their eyes had met for a brief instant, had been the same. The _exact_ same. Anxious, scared and a teeny bit wondrous.  
  


“Say something.” Stiles all but pleads, looking like he’s two seconds away from throwing up.  
  


Derek’s mouth, thankfully, seems to catch on faster than his brain. “I thought you were in love with Lydia Martin.” Everyone and _their grandma_ knows about Stiles crush on the red head. Not that he’s made it a secret actually. It had been the story of the week when Stiles had asked the girl to accompany him to the Winter Formal and she had actually accepted (and even danced with him once before letting Jackson cut in).  
  


The other teenager makes a face and waves a hand. “That was like, eons ago! I am over Lydia! Have been over her for  _ages_! She’s awesome and all but we’re better friends than anything romantic.”  
  


Ah. Well. That’s one mystery solved. Which leaves the big one flopping around on his bedroom floor like a dying fish. What's he supposed to say  _now_?  
  


–  
  


Derek’s lying on his bed, contemplating on whether or not he’s having an out of body experience, when his mother stops by his room again. She notes the lack of Stiles and the untouched plate of cookies before she stepping in.   
  


He’s busy staring at the ceiling, enjoying the lovely static that his brain has been stuck in since Stiles’ sudden confession, and  _not_ thinking about what he’s going to do. Or how he’s going to reply. Or how Stiles had so simply but genuinely asked him not to spread this around. 'I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself? It’s not that I’m ashamed about having an equal opportunities policy but I’d rather not have my private life all… out there you know?’  
  


His mother sits down on the bed, not to close but not to far and asks, “I wasn’t aware you and Stiles were friends.” The face that Derek pulls makes her almost smile. “Ah. Not friends then. Classmates?”  
  


Derek doesn’t have to think about his answer. That rattles him just a tiny bit. “Just in Chemistry and English Lit. We don’t really hang out or anything.” There’s never been a chance for it. They run in totally different circles - Derek with several members of the basketball team, which includes Isaac and his friend Boyd and  _his_ girlfriend Erica. Stiles has his own friends, many of them on the lacrosse guys, including his best friend Scott. And of course there's Lydia Martin and Allison Argent who hang out with their group too.  
  


“Then, why did he come over today?” His mom asks curiously, "Do you two have to work on a project together?"  
  


Derek wonders if he ought to lie. Cook up some kind of story that will satisfy his mother and let him be. But he’s never been the kind of person to lie to his mother, much less shut her out of his life. So he sighs, stares determinedly up at the ceiling and mumbles, “He said that he liked me and wanted to spend more time with me.”  
  


The long pause that stretches between them makes Derek want to turn on his side, curl up, stick his head under his pillow and never resurface. Is his face turning red right now? He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. The only thing that stops him from doing so is the fact that his mother placidly replies, “Well I’m not surprised.”  
  


That makes Derek sit up like a shot, eyes bugging out in shock. “You’re not?” He blurts out. How can that be? How can  _anyone_ not be surprised that the first person who has confessed to Derek was a. a guy and b. a guy who he’s never talked too longer than 2 sentences before today (and c. someone who has been revolving in Derek's mind for a long time now)?  
  


His mother shrugs elegantly, dismissively even. “Not at all. I remember you boys being rather good friends when you were… I think you were 5, maybe 6 at most. And you came up to me one day and told me that you and Stiles were married.”  
  


Derek chokes at this.  _He doesn’t remember this at all!_  " _What_?“ He asks, mouth falling open. His embarrassment is through the  _roof_ thanks to this revelation. It tops Stiles’ abrupt confession! It even tops the time that Laura had pantsed him at his own birthday party!  
  


His mother smiles, fond and amused at the same time when she replies, "I think you got a toad to officiate the ceremony and then for your honeymoon you had-”  
  


“Climbed on top of the tower and slid down the yellow slide together.” Derek finishes in a mildly horrified tone. His mother’s words unlock the memory as neatly as a key opens a locked door. Derek remembers proposing marriage to Stiles, remembers standing side by side beside a swing that had a solemn looking toad perched on it that croaked when Stiles told it to 'say the words please Mr.Toad so that we can be married’. “Oh my  _God_.” Derek groans into his hands.  
  


“You  _do_  remember!” His mother replies, smiling in delight. He wishes to God he didn’t. Had he really proposed to Stiles with a soda can tab? Groaning, Derek flops back on the bed and pulls the pillow over his head.  
  


He’s mumbling nonsense into the bed when he feels his mother’s hand stroking his arm. Derek pauses when his mom asks, “What are you going to tell him?”  
  


That’s an excellent question because Derek has  _no idea_  how he’s going to reply to Stiles. Hell. He’s got an even lesser idea  _now_ than before regarding his reply. “I don’t know.” He replies. “I just don’t know.”


	3. And You Have Stolen My Heart

He’s the one who has asked for some time to figure out his feelings. Derek knows this. He reminds himself of this fact often the days following the Bedroom Incident. But it doesn’t help soothe the confusing, twisty feeling that curls around in his gut whenever he looks to find Stiles and notices that the jock is looking away. That he's looking anywhere but at Derek.   
  


From an outsiders perspective, it doesn’t look like Stiles is even aware of his existence much less that he  _likes_ Derek. Shouldn’t he be sneaking glances at Derek or something? Some, any kind of hint that would show Derek that Stiles was serious? That he was  _anxious_ about Derek's reply?  
  


_‘Or maybe’,_  his brain reminds him dryly,  _'he’s just being a nice guy and giving you the space that you asked for. Remember that part?’_  Derek hates his brain and how sensible it chooses to be sometimes.   
  


“You need to stop that.” Erica chides, breaking away from her conversation with Isaac and Boyd. Derek turns towards her, eyebrows going up questioningly. The blond girl pointedly looks at the table where Stiles is cheering Scott on as he tries to stuff 4 Twinkies into his mouth at once. “ _That_ _._ You need to stop staring at him.”  
  


“At who?” Derek feigns ignorance easily, handing Isaac the pudding cup he’s been eyeing for the last 5 minutes.  
  


With a happy grin, Isaac peels the top off. “At Stilinski. You’ve been staring at him since… Friday? Right?” The curly haired boy looks at Erica for some manner of confirmation. Derek regrets giving Isaac the pudding immediately.  
  


Erica nods firmly, crossing her hands on the table, leaning in as Isaac digs into his pudding. She’s got her determined face on, the one that always comes up whenever Erica has set her jump over whatever hurdle that’s in her way. Derek’s stomach begins to twist into nervous knots. “Friday, yeah. Did he say something to you? Threaten you? Trash talk? We could go knock him around a bit if-”  
  


As much as he appreciates and loves his friends, sometimes they tend to jump to physical violence a  _little_ too quickly. Then again, he’s not  _that_ much better either sometimes. “It’s nothing like that.” Derek reassures the girl, frowning when she gives him a flat disbelieving look. “Honestly!” His fingers twitch, wanting to duck down under the table and cross themselves as he lies.  
  


Erica stares him down, eyeing him like she  _knows_ that he’s lying. Too bad for her that Derek’s used to these kind of intimidation tactics because of his older siblings. And as scary as Erica can be? She’s got a long ways to go before she reaches the levels that Aidan and Laura are at.   
  


Her gaze ticks back to Stiles, who is now resting his head on the table as he laughs and laughs while Scott highfives Danny. Derek can see the judgement pouring off in unimpressed waves. He can also see the gears clicking away inside Erica's head as she tries to connect the dots. “If it’s not that, then what it is it?” She asks insistently. "And don't say it's nothing because  _clearly_ it's something."

 

Derek looks over at Boyd, unsubtly nodding over at Erica with a 'help me stop her please’ look in his eyes. He doesn't want Erica meddling in his love life. The dark skinned boy continues to drink in juice, slurping it noisily before he shrugs apologetically. Derek narrows his eyes. Traitor. He’s going to remember this the next time Boyd needs help.  
  


A shoe connects with his calf, sharp and pointy. Derek yelps, thighs slamming against the table as he jumps at the sudden pain. Erica continues to eye him, not looking the slightest bit apologetic when Derek glares at her while rubbing his leg. “ _Well_?” she stresses, “What’s the story? Why the hell have you been staring at Stilinski like he’s kidnapped your puppy?”  
  


“I haven’t been  _staring_  at him!” Derek denies immediately and vehemently because he  _hasn’t_ , thank you very much! Erica snorts in disbelief and rolls her eyes while Boyd and Isaac eye him like he’s crazy. “ _I haven’t_!” He says in a louder voice.  
  


Isaac pulls the spoon out of his mouth, points it at Derek, “You're either a really shitty liar or heavily in denial because you kind of  _have_ actually. It’s been… weird.” The plastic utensil flutters between pointing at the couple in front of him. “Ask them if you don’t believe me.”  
  


He immediately turns to Boyd, knowing that he can trust his team mate’s opinion. Derek feels like a fish knocked out of water when the boy nods, “I thought that he said something to piss you off and you were planning to get your revenge on him.” Boyd explains simply, going back to finishing his sandwich.  
  


Derek stares at Boyd, mouth falling open slightly in shock. “Better close that if you don’t plan on using it.” Erica teases before she gives Stiles’ table a long considering look. “You sure it’s nothing bad? He’s not trying to pull any shit on the basketball team?”  
  


“Or you?” Isaac finishes up, eyes sharp with intent.   
  


Head shifting rapidly between the pair, it takes Derek less than a second to vehemently shake his head. “For the last time,  _no_. He didn’t threaten me or anything like that! And I _haven’t_ been staring at him!”  
  


Erica rolls her eyes even harder, “Sure. And I’m a nun.” Isaac snort-laughs, causing the last of his pudding to go down the wrong tube which in turn leads him to start coughing like he’s about to cough his lungs out. Derek helpfully thumps and rubs his back before offering him his water bottle.  
  


While Isaac wheezes and tries to get his breathing back to normal, Boyd finishes his lunch and balls the paper bag up. “It doesn't matter how much you deny it Derek. You've been staring at him. If I didn’t know any better though, I’d think that you liked him.”  
  


Derek’s really glad that he’s nothing in his mouth or else it would have been  _his_ turn to choke. “What makes you say that?” he asks instead, heart and brain already going into Defcon-4 because no way, there’s no  _way_ that he likes Stiles. Derek would  _know_ if he liked Stiles because he’s been spending 3 days trying to figure out how he feels about the teenager and at best, he’s got 'maybe? possibly? there’s potential?????’ How can Boyd know something like that before Derek himself knowing?  
  


Personally, he feels that the problem here is that he just doesn’t know Stiles. Hasn’t gotten a chance for it either. Most of what he knows about the teenager is second hand information and the Stiles he had seen in his bedroom was a far cry from his usual behavior. It was a side of Stiles that Derek didn’t think many people have seen and so…  
  


Boyd taps his fingers against the table, contemplating his answer. “The way you look at him. It’s like you want him to notice you.” Derek jerks up with a unpleasant jolt, stares in bewilderment at Boyd even as the other boy looks away to Stiles. “It’s the same way he looks at you sometimes.”  
  


That…  
  


That changes things. Doesn’t it?  
  


–-  
  


It’s been one week since Derek feels like his life has been flipped upside down. Wait, that’s not right. It feels more like Stiles grabbed the rug under his feet and yanked on it hard enough to make Derek face plant into the floor. o. That's not right either. It's like someone flipped a switch and Derek's blinded by the light flooding his eyes?  
  


Cliched analogies aside, it’s taken him a full seven days to get back on his feet and figure out how he’s going to respond to Stiles’ confession. Seven days of running the same arguments over and over again in his head, coming back to the same old conclusions before he starts all over again. He doesn’t know Stiles ( _'that can be remedied’_ ). What if this is a prank ( _'if it is, he’ll have the entire basketball team on his side, ready to kick Stiles’ ass’_ ). They’re really different ( _'irrelevant, that doesn’t matter’_ ). He’s scared of opening up to someone (’ _that’s natural but there’s the crazy itch under his skin to take a chance with Stiles’_ ).

 

Derek feels like an emotional mess. He’s so caught up imagining all the ways they could mess things up and spoil things before they even start. And that is the most telling thing. It's a thought that doesn't occur to him on the eve of the sixth day when Laura casually suggests just letting Stiles down easy. "Let him off the hook already. _And_ you'll get him out of your hair that way too." 

 

His stomach had dropped down into his feet at the mere thought of rejecting Stiles. And then he'd felt like someone had slapped him in the face. All these days where he'd driven himself up the wall about what choice to make and he'd already  _made_ his choice without knowing it.  
  


As he watches Stiles run across the field, yelling something unflattering at Jackson, Derek thinks that maybe his heart had arrived at a conclusion long before his head could process it. It certainly seems that way if he listens to the way it speeds up every time Stiles tosses a curious look up his way on the bleachers.  
  


Derek has to force himself to remain still and wait for Stiles to finish with his practice before he heads down to the field. Every step that he takes closer to the dark haired teenager, Derek feels an extra 5 pounds being tied around his chest and feet, making every breath and step more difficult. By the time he’s standing face to face with Stiles, Derek feels like Atlas trying to hold the world up on his shoulders.

 

“Stiles.” He greets, nodding stiffly at the teenager. There's a small crowd watching them curiously. Well. Jackson is  _glaring_ at him actually. Derek hurriedly looks back at Stiles. 

 

Stiles is staring at him, different emotions passing over his face before he settles into a deliberately nonchalant stance. “Derek. What can I do you for?” Derek twitches and tries not to look heavenward for patience and strength.  
  


With a sigh, Derek lets some of his nerves bleed through by running a hand through his hair. He presses his lips together before saying in a quiet tone, “Can I talk to you? About… what you told me last week?”  
  


Another flicker of emotions. This time Derek can put a name on them - fear, hope, resignation, nervousness. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Stiles waves at Scott, gesturing for him to go on before he leads Derek back to the bleachers.  
  


Without much ado, Stiles plops down in the second row and looks up at Derek. Derek waits a heartbeat before cautiously sitting down next to Stiles, close enough that their knees almost knocked together. His eyes remain locked on Stiles, watching him as his brown eyes tick down to the few inches between them before Stiles swallows and asks, “So? What's the verdict?”  
  


He’s not even surprised that Stiles is going right for it. But that doesn’t mean that Derek feels any less ready to give his answer. He fights down the urge to fidget or do anything that would give away his nervousness and fails. His sneakers scuff the grass under his toes before he starts, “I thought about what you said and-”  
  


“Everything okay here?” Danny’s pleasant but cautious tone makes the pair turn towards him with a start. For his part, Danny blinks curiously at Derek but keeps the bulk of his attention on Stiles. “Stiles?”  
  


The teenager waves his team mate away, “Just fine. Peachy dandy, Hunky dory even.”  
  


"You sure?" Stiles nods at the question. Danny shoots Derek one more questioning look before he shrugs, “Suit yourself.” and trots away to where Jackson is scowling and waiting for him.  
  


Stiles lets out a noise that sounds like a cross between a raspberry and a sigh, “You were saying?” He asks Derek.  
  


Shaking his head, Derek tries to recall where he’d left his sentence off. “I thought about it, a lot and I think that-”  
  


“There you are!” Derek nearly snarls at the feminine voice that cuts him off. Allison Argent runs up to Stiles, cheeks pink and hair in messy waves. “Have you seen Scott? He’s not picking up his phone.”  
  


It’s reassuring to note that Stiles looks as peeved as Derek feels when he jerks his thumb towards the direction of the locker room and bites out, “Probably changing.” Allison beams at him, gives Derek a cursory puzzled look before trotting away towards the locker rooms.  
  


Derek watches her walk away before he takes a much needed breath to calm himself. “Like I was sayin-”  
  


“Stiles.” The sharp tone makes Derek almost throw his hands up in despair.  
  


He actually  _does_  do that then he sees who is stomping down the sidelines up to them. Stiles’s head is already down in his hands as he groans, “You've  _got_ to be  _kidding me_!” Without waiting for Lydia to speak, Stiles is pointing at the locker room and almost yelling, “Jackson’s there, Danny’s there, Scott’s there, Allison’s there and  _I’m_   **not**  here so please move it along!”  
  


Lydia’s sharp eyes and sharper frown lingers on them for a long moment before she glares at the direction Stiles is pointing in. She gives the teenager a hard glare before declaring, “We’ll talk later.”  
  


Derek watches her walk away, shoulders slumping down before he asks, “Is it always this hard to get a moment alone with you?”  
  


“Not usually.” Stiles sighs, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear they were running interference.” He glares in the direction where Lydia and the others have run off to before he turns back towards Derek with an apologetic smile. “You were saying?”  
  


He looks at Stiles, studies the ease that has settled into the other boys shoulders and thinks, ’ _fuck it_ ’. Derek reaches out to grab Stiles by his jersey, fist tightening in the collar before he uses it to yank him forward. Stiles yelps and flails, hands coming down on Derek’s biceps with one squeeze and then two when their lips collide.  
  


It’s more teeth than lips and it  _hurts_ , but it's  **real**. Derek feels like he’s sat on the worlds largest roller coaster for four times in a row, resulting in the sudden dizzy spell that’s rocking his brain. And it's the _best_ decision he's ever made. Because that unsettled feeling that's been bugging him for a week now? Evaporates the second he feels Stiles kissing him back. He inhales through his nose, feeling a rush of air rush past his cheek when Stiles inhales as well before gentling the kiss.  
  


Stiles’ hands tighten once more before they relax and slide up on Derek’s shoulders, hanging there as the teenager shifts forward on the bench. Derek’s hyper aware of all the points where they’re touching - their knees bumping into each other, Stiles’ cleats scratching against the hem of his jeans, his hand sliding down Stiles’ chest before curling around his side. And their lips. Stiles' lips are softer and more fuller than he'd imagined them to be.  
  


Derek is content to sit on the uncomfortable bench that’s putting his ass in danger of quickly going numb if it means getting to continue kiss Stiles over and over again. Stiles' tongue brushes over his bottom lip, making Derek whimper in response. It crawls over his tongue and into Stiles' mouth, making him shiver and pull away to blink dazedly at Derek. Who looks equal parts mortified and aroused because _what was that_?  
  


Some part of his brain clicks into action. And just like that, the words come tumbling out of his mouth, a part of the speech he'd practiced for a few hours only last night “I think I like you too and we should try dating."   
  


Stiles stares at him, eyes all wondering and awestruck. They tick slightly from side to side as though he can’t make up his mind where to look before he smiles tremulously, "I think I got that part. Loud and clear.”  
  


His pale fingers are sliding up Derek’s neck now, affectionately scratching through the teenager’s hair before he uses the same grip to pull Derek back in. Derek is more than happy to follow Stiles’ lead, already smiling and eager for another taste.  
  


There’s a yell and a whoop from behind them that makes Stiles’ hand move out of Derek's hair and into the air, “ _You’ve gotta be shitting me!_ ” He yells with a flushed face. Not that Derek can confidently say  _why_ Stiles’ face is that particular shade of red - embarrassment or anger, it’s a 50-50 chance for either of them.   
  


Stiles’ friends are standing several feet away, wolf whistling and cheering like the pair has won a tournament or something. And would you look at that, his friends are standing there too. With big, shit eating grins on their face.  
  


“I hate my friends.” Derek grumbles into the hand he brings up to cover his face.  
  


Stiles falls down next to him, still glaring at Danny who is all too loudly asking the others to pay up. “You and me both.”


End file.
